


You Say Real Nice Things When I'm Touching You

by theatergay



Category: Newsies (1992), Newsies - All Media Types, Newsies!: the Musical - Fierstein/Menken
Genre: Aftercare, Cuddling, Fluff, Gratuitous Smut, M/M, Oral Sex, Spot can be read as either trans or cis, Trans Racetrack Higgins, Wet Dream, sex is very often weird and silly and awkward and that’s okay!!
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-08-15
Updated: 2018-08-15
Packaged: 2019-06-27 15:48:46
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,712
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/15688542
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/theatergay/pseuds/theatergay
Summary: When Spot wakes up in the middle of the might, he’s aware that something’s different than usual, and he’s prepared to roll over and go back to sleep right when his boyfriend lets out a moan next to him. “Hey, sleepyhead. What were you dreamin’ about?” Race mumbles and shakes his head. Spot laughs kindly. “You were moaning in your sleep, I think I can take a guess at what you were dreaming about.”-Or: Race's dreams end up getting him more than he expects.





	You Say Real Nice Things When I'm Touching You

**Author's Note:**

> Title from “Bedroom Floor” by Liam Payne.

When Spot wakes up in the middle of the night, he’s aware that something’s different than usual. His alarm hasn’t gone off yet, Race doesn’t seem to be having a nightmare, and he can’t think of any reason he would’ve woken up on his own. He’s prepared to roll over and go back to sleep right when his boyfriend lets out a moan next to him.

“…Race? You okay?” Race doesn’t respond. “Hey, Race,” Spot whispers, registering what’s probably happening. He jostles Race gently. “Come on, wake up.” Race mumbles something in his sleep and rolls over. “Race,” Spot repeats, a little louder this time. “Hey, sleepyhead.”

“Mm?” Spot grabs his hip and maneuvers him until he’s laying on his back again. Race lets himself be moved around, but not without grumbling softly. “Wha’dya want?” Spot turns Race’s head towards him and leans forward to kiss him. After a moment, Race kisses back sloppily, feeling more awake by the second.

“What were you dreamin’ about?” Spot asks playfully. Race mumbles again and shakes his head. Spot laughs. “You were moaning in your sleep, I think I can take a guess at what you were dreaming about.”

“Mm?” Race hums again. Spot shifts, propping his head up with his elbow and laying his other hand on top of Race’s underwear. Race lets out a shaky sigh.

“This okay?” Spot asks as he starts to slowly rub Race through his boxers. Race whines, already trying to push back onto Spot’s fingers. Spot laughs softly. “Impatient, huh? Having a good dream before I woke you up?” Race whines again. He sounds far more desperate than he did just a few seconds ago. “I’m going to turn on the light, okay? Want to see what I’m doing.” Race huffs, and Spot reaches out and flicks on their small bedside lamp.

Race blinks rapidly as he adjusts to the sudden brightness. His eyes settle on Spot’s face, and he breaks into a lazy smile. “Hey there,” Spot says, dragging his thumb across Race’s lower lip. Race nips at him playfully, and Spot laughs. He presses a soft kiss to Race’s temple. He grabs his pillow and tugs Race’s hair until he lifts his head, adding his to the pillow already under Race’s head. He lets Race get settled before he moves his hand back down to Race’s underwear.

Race rolls his hips against Spot, desperate for more than the little friction Spot’s giving him. Spot doesn’t pick up the pace or slip his hand inside Race’s boxers. “What were you dreaming about?” he asks instead.

“You,” Race grumbles, as if Spot is an idiot for thinking otherwise.

“Hmm. That’s it?” Race whines.

“Spot,” he pants out, “come on, I was– I was close, already, I want to–” Spot relents with his teasing and slips his hand inside Race’s underwear, rubbing two fingers against him. Race gasps. “Yeah, that’s– thanks.” Spot can’t help but laugh.

“Look at me?” he encourages. Race does, tilting his head and focusing on Spot’s chin. “Good boy.” Without warning, Spot presses both fingers into Race. Race moans, his breaths starting to come more rapidly as Spot starts to thrust his fingers. “You got yourself all worked up in that dream,” Spot acknowledges, “you’re soaking.” Race moans again, nodding.

“Can you– Spot–” Spot shifts a little, rubbing his thumb in circles on Race’s clit. Race presses his hips down and cries out, falling apart under Spot’s fingers. Spot works him through it gently, kissing Race as he comes down from his orgasm. He moves his fingers away and wipes them on the sheet. Race scrunches his face up.

“I hate when you do that, ‘s gross,” he says. Spot laughs.

“Sorry,” he says. “You feeling a little better now?” Race laughs too, squirming around until he’s leaning on Spot.

“Mhm. Thanks, you really didn’t have to.” Spot tilts Race’s chin up to kiss him.

“Shut up, I wanted to.” Spot scoots back against the headboard and motions Race towards him, putting his arm around Race’s shoulders. Race lets out a deep sigh. “You tired?”

“No,” Race says with another little laugh. He leans his head against Spot’s shoulder and cranes his head up to give Spot a kiss on the cheek.

They relax into a comfortable silence, Race tucked under Spot’s arm. Spot strokes his hair, working through the little tangles that Race’s bedhead has given him. Race is starting to doze off again when Spot decides to ask what he’s been wondering.

“What _were_ you dreaming about?” Race hums sleepily.

“Mm. You going down on me.”

“Not a bad dream,” he jokes. Race hums.

“You had the spreader bar on me, couldn’t close my legs. Wouldn’t stop even when I didn’t think I could come anymore.”

Spot raises his eyebrows. “…You want me to?” Race shakes his head.

“Not now, ‘m too tired.”

“No, not the whole thing,” Spot explains. “I don’t have the energy for that right now, either. Want me to go down on you?” Race considers for a moment.

“I won’t last.”

“‘S okay,” Spot says. “I won’t draw it out.” Race thinks it over, then shrugs.

“I’m not gonna say no,” he tells Spot. Spot laughs and pushes Race forward a little so he can move his arm out from behind him. Race grabs at Spot’s shirt before he can move away and kisses him sloppily. Spot moves against him slowly, letting Race take the lead. Race pulls away after a little while and pushes at Spot’s head playfully.

“Still needy?” Spot says, rucking up the hem of Race’s shirt. He sucks a dark hickey into Race’s stomach. It’s not long before Race is squirming under him.

“Come on, you said you wouldn’t tease,” Race points out, already panting again. Spot kisses the fresh mark on Race’s stomach and slips his thumbs under Race’s underwear. “Hurry _up_.” His voice cracks, and Spot can’t help but laugh again.

“Relax,” he says, “You’re so desperate.” Race knees Spot’s side.

“Yeah, cause I just did my shot. I thought you were gonna go down on me.” Spot can’t argue with that and pushes Race’s underwear down fully. 

“You’ve been getting harder,” Spot acknowledges with the same tone that one might use to comment on the weather. Race lets out a deep sigh.

“Yeah, that’s the shots too. You talk too much.” Spot grins and presses a kiss to Race’s stomach again, then moves between Race’s legs. He doesn’t waste any time getting settled and rubs a finger up against him again. He leans in, licking across Race broadly. Race gasps and slumps back a bit more, tossing an arm over his eyes. He wraps his other hand around a clump of Spot’s dark hair and pushes him back down.

“Gentle,” Spot reminds before focusing back on the task at hand. He spreads Race open with two fingers, lapping at him. He presses the tip of his tongue into Race. Race thrusts his hips back against him, panting loudly.

“Can–”

“Mm?” Spot hums from between Race’s legs.

“Finger me,” Race tells him. Spot listens, pulling away with an obscenely wet sound and pressing into Race again. Race whines and pulls at Spot’s hair sharply.

“Wha’dyou want?” Race pushes his head back down.

“Spot, don’t stop, _please_.” Spot wraps his lips around Race again, trying to match the stroke of his tongue on Race’s clit to the thrust of his fingers. Race lets out what almost sounds like a sob, his hand tightening in Spot’s hair again. Spot speeds up a little. It’s a matter of seconds before Race is coming, his hips jerking erratically while he moans. Spot doesn’t ease off, just braces Race’s hips and continues going down on him through his orgasm. Race lets Spot keep going until it’s too much, kicking his legs and pulling at Spot’s hair again. Spot kisses his stomach.

“Feelin’ okay?”

“Shut up, I feel great,” Race mutters, still panting heavily. He moves his arm from covering his eyes. “Come here, I want to kiss you.” Spot smiles.

“One second, okay? I’m not leaving, I just want to get something to clean you up.” Race grumbles but releases Spot’s hair so that he’s able to grab a baby wipe from the top of their dresser. He wipes off his hand before he goes back to sit on the bed, letting Race lean into him again.

Race kisses him happily. Spot snakes a hand between Race’s legs and cleans his thighs off. He pulls away from Race’s mouth briefly.

“Hey, it’s going to be cold for a second, okay?” Race nods, but still flinches when Spot rubs the baby wipe across him. Race whimpers. “Almost done–” Spot finishes up, setting the wet wipe on the side table and letting Race go back to kissing him. Race licks at him energetically, then twists and flops across Spot’s lap.

“Thank you,” he says. “That was– nice. Do you want anything?” Spot smiles and shakes his head. “Okay.” Race sounds relieved. “I’m tired.”

“Wonder why,” Spot says. “You want new bottoms?” Race grins goofily, and Spot sighs. “Pajama bottoms, dumbass.” Race shakes his head and squirms until he’s able to kick off his underwear. “Elegant.” Race bats at Spot’s face with no real aim or determination, and Spot laughs. “Come on, lay down and then I’ll get the light.” Race lets out a deep sigh, realizing how tired he really is. He tosses Spot’s pillow back towards his side of the bed and curls up. Spot pulls the comforter over him.

“Turn ‘t off,” Race mumbles, already falling asleep again. Spot flicks the lamp off and lays down, pulling up his side of the blanket. Race wiggles forward and wraps himself around Spot, sighing contently. “I’m gonna go to sleep now,” he announces. Spot kisses the top of his head.

“Sounds like a good plan. G’night, bud.”

“Don’t call me bud after eating me out.” Spot snorts, which only causes Race to laugh too. “Shuddup, ‘m trying to sleep.”

“Sorry. Night, Race. I love you.”

“Mm. Love you too.”

Race is asleep in a matter of moments, and Spot starts drifting off shortly after. They both sleep soundly the rest of the night, happily wrapped up in each other’s arms.

**Author's Note:**

> This was just gentle self indulgent smut that I wrote in the span of one night when I couldn’t get to sleep for the life of me. Comments and kudos are appreciated as always; even if I don’t respond to all of them I see each and every single one and they make my day!!!


End file.
